


Crow's Nest

by RudeHellion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Character Mashup, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Boys Talking, Fluff, Honestly I just smooshed the ones I liked together, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RudeHellion/pseuds/RudeHellion
Summary: When a letter from home leaves Harry troubled, Tom goes looking for his friend.Fifth year slice of life fluff, pre-relationship.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 12
Kudos: 170
Collections: NW14_Collection





	Crow's Nest

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to NeuroWriter14 for giving this a cursory beta'ing! Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone.

When Tom Riddle needed to hide away from the world, he went down. He sought out the dark corners and hidden rooms, the forgotten chambers and the dusty closets where no one would think to look for him. The darkness was soothing and the quiet meant that he could let his masks drop in comfort, secure in the knowledge that no one would be able to sneak up on him without him hearing their approach. He wiggled his way into caves, picked the locks on storage sheds and hopped the fence to explore dusty churchyard crypts. When he came to Hogwarts, nothing changed. The castle was full of forgotten spaces an enterprising young boy with a good grasp of magic and the ability to sweet-talk portraits could find.

When Harry Potter needed to hide, he went up. Growing up on the wooded Potter estate had taught him that adults kept their eyes firmly on the ground and that the safest place to escape their notice was out of sight, up a tree. A feat of accidental magic had given him a taste for rooftops and summer afternoons had shown him the wisdom of attic windows and cooling breezes. When Harry was tucked up above the world, he was safely out of reach and could spot anyone approaching long before they'd detect him. With Hogwarts only came more interesting refuges, quidditch and flying, high towers and easy to scale stone walls. Harry gloried in the freedom that came with being able to leave the ground behind.

What this meant, Tom thought, was that it was probably best to start looking for Harry in the astronomy tower. He went there first. It was empty— well, unless you counted the three sets of snogging couples he'd chased out. Tom discarded the North Tower as a possibility immediately, wild hippogriffs couldn't drag Harry anywhere near Trelawny, and there was no trace of him when Tom checked the owlery. The jittery second-year Ravenclaw he flagged down had managed, through her stammering, to tell him that the Ravenclaw common room was empty, which ruled out Harry taking refuge with another house. Gryffindor was too loud and the Hufflepuffs tended to pry, so Harry avoided them when he was upset enough to show it.

Tom narrowed his eyes and tried to clear his mind, drumming his fingers against the sill of a sixth-floor window. There weren't many towers left. If Dumbledore had stolen Harry away again for another 'chat' about picking his friends more carefully, Tom seethed, he was opening the chamber and damn the consequences. Harry couldn't stay mad at him forever. He wondered if checking would be worth the trouble of trying to guess which terrible muggle sweet was the password this week, but before he could make up his mind, Tom heard a familiar voice calling his name. He pushed a loose strand of wavy chestnut hair back into place and frowned as a doughy boy in Slytherin colors jogged down the hall towards him.

"Riddle!" Avery puffed, red-cheeked with exertion and in a state of disarray. His tie was untucked and several oily blotches from breakfast stained the front of his school robes. Tom schooled his face into a distantly amused expression and successfully resisted the urge to grit his teeth. "Where've you been? I've been looking for you since breakfast! Have you seen Potter?" Avery's tone was gleeful as he darted a glance at a passing group of giggling Hufflepuff third-years and lowered his voice, leaning closer. "He got an owl from his father and ran out of the great hall." Avery scrunched his nose up and hastily scraped up the semblance of sympathy at Tom's brief, pointed glare. "Poor thing."

"I must have missed him," Tom drawled, glancing out the window with feigned disinterest. "Slughorn needed a prefect to help with the setup for next week's class." If by 'help' one meant doing the lazy Professor's work for him, Tom thought bitterly. Slughorn never missed a chance to dump his workload off on Tom, claiming that it was his duty as a prefect to assist him and prattling on about all of his so-called connections the entire time as a 'reward.' Tom let the moment drag on just long enough to make Avery fidget before casually asking, "I wonder what happened. Did you see where Potter went?"

Avery shrugged, the gritty details clearly of less interest to him than the lurid gossip. "Bad news, maybe? Think he ducked outside again, but I wasn't paying attention." He kept blathering on, but Tom tuned him out as he leaned against the cold windowpane, eyes darting rapidly across the castle grounds. If Harry had gone outside then— Ah.  _ There _ .

"Riddle?" Avery called uncertainly after him as Tom stalked away down the hallway, abandoning his classmate mid-sentence. Tom didn't bother replying. He loped down the stairs two at a time, taking advantage of his long legs, and only bothered to slow his pace to save his dignity when he spotted other students. Tom ducked behind a tapestry on the fourth floor to squeeze out from behind a suit of arms on the second and took the last set of stairs to the ground floor at a slower tempo. He nodded politely at the classmates he recognized, but kept his expression remote and focused on the middle distance so no one flagged him down to talk. This close to the Great Hall the corridors were crowded with students nattering about the upcoming winter break and Tom fought the urge to scowl as he wove his way through the gossiping herd. Didn't they have anything better to do? Homework, maybe?

In the end, it took ducking down a side corridor and making for a little-used courtyard exit to get through the mess. As Tom stretched his legs out and affected a casual stroll towards the Quidditch field, his eyes roved across the bleak winter landscape. No one else was around. This late in November it was cold enough to keep all, but the most adventurous students indoors. As if to underscore the thought, a gust of freezing wind cut through Tom's thin robes and he shivered imperceptibly as he sauntered across the sloping lawn, conscious of the many windows at his back. 

The grass was sere and brown and crackled with frost underneath his feet with every step, loud in the quiet of the gloomy morning. There wasn't snow on the ground yet, but patches of dark ice glistened in the shadows and the flat grey sky promised sleet. When Tom took a breath, the air tasted damp and sharp on his tongue. It was terrible flying weather, but as Tom approached the battered wooden shed where the brooms were stored, he smiled grimly. As he'd thought, the door was slightly ajar.

Pushing it open with one hand, Tom cursed Hogwarts security under his breath. Honestly, a locking charm that a first-year could undo was no way to secure magical artifacts, even if the artifacts in question were only brooms. Not that a more complicated one would have kept Harry out, but— it was the principle of the thing. It was easy to see that Harry's distinctive firebolt was missing at a glance and Tom sighed. He knew what that meant. Tom grimly weighed the contents of the shed and grabbed his pick of the ancient school brooms. 

He had to go up.

Tom took a moment to cast a disillusionment charm over himself and check his surroundings. The coast seemed clear, the weather was too unpleasant for the couples who normally took refuge under the stands to make out and none of the teachers bothered to patrol in daylight. Nothing stirred along the treeline and the day was quiet, broken only by the hush of the wind and the occasional caw of a distant crow. Swinging his leg over the battered wooden broomstick, Tom took a deep breath and pushed off. Harry had spent most of the third-year winter break making sure he was a competent flier, but nothing could ever make him like it. He spiraled around to gain some height, then turned towards the castle rooftops.

Hogwarts had been added to often over the years, creating a crazed maze of tiled rooftops and tiny accidental courtyards. There were dozens of places for a small boy to hide and Harry never made for the same cranny twice. It took some time, but on his third trip around the castle, Tom finally spotted a curly head of hair tucked underneath a ledge overlooking the dark lake. He swooped down, landing awkwardly on the narrow strip of stone and scaring off a curious crow who had been lurking on a nearby crenellation with a clatter of wings and a harsh, affronted caw. Keeping a tight grip on his broom and eying the sheer drop to his left, Tom carefully approached Harry.

There wasn't much of him visible, just a halo of inky black hair and a puddle of well-made robes. Harry was huddled in a knot, arms wrapped tightly around his legs and face buried in his knees. Tom bit his lip, then sat down gingerly next to his friend, dropping the broom on the ledge beside them. Wordlessly, he cast a few warming charms to take the chill edge off the air and heat the grey stone, then settled in to wait. Tom let the side of his leg press reassuringly into the chilled body next to him and turned his gaze to the sluggishly rolling water below. Neither boy spoke for a long time.

"He didn't even know what classes I was taking," Harry said at last, words muffled by the heavy fabric. He barked a short, humorless laugh. "I told him over summer break. I honestly thought he listened, y'know? That it was a good moment. I thought we  _ bonded _ ," Harry sneered at his own naivety. He rolled his head to one side, peeking up at Tom through the shadow of his bangs. Tom made an encouraging noise in the back of his throat and stayed perfectly still. After a few steadying breaths, Harry continued. "He didn't hear a damn word. I guess he decided to read a letter I sent mum or something because he sent me a note asking why I was taking the course load I was. I told him," and Tom could see him smile thinly, emerald eyes dull and listless. "That I was taking what I needed to join the Aurors."

Harry's cold white hands clenched on his calves hard enough to bruise. "The letter he sent back simply said he didn't think I was a, 'good fit,' for the program."

Tom hissed, low and angry. "Your father's a prick." As he had hoped, the rare profanity was enough to make Harry snort a laugh into his knees. "It's been five years. You'd think the man would have gotten over your sorting Slytherin by now."

Harry hummed noncommittally and unwound to slump against Tom in a boneless heap, letting the lanky frame of his friend take his weight. He was a sprawling tangle of limbs and robes, but he somehow managed to tuck himself against Tom's chest like he was made to fit there. Tom luxuriated in the sensation of a warm body breathing against his and tangled his hand in Harry's coiled mass of hair. Scratching gently, he watched the sluggish water lap at the icy shoreline beneath them and waited for Harry to find the words to explain the rest of what was bothering him

Until he had come to Hogwarts and met Harry, Tom would have said he had no use for people. They had been thrown together by chance, two awkward misfits sorted into a house that didn't want them and did its best to drive them out. The first year had been rough— Tom crooked a slight smile at the inadequate description— but between warring with the rest of Slytherin and sniping at each other, they had somehow managed to become friends. By the second year, they had carved out a niche for themselves and begun their climb to the top of the food chain. This year, Tom had made Slytherin King through a combination of selectively applied blackmail and sheer overwhelming menace. Tom's eyes narrowed in satisfaction. Not a soul in Slytherin dared to mess with them now.

"I think I might talk to Slughorn about changing my goals," Harry said abruptly, shaking Tom out of his recollections.

"That's a shame, you'd be an excellent Auror," Tom commented, keeping his voice dry and free of inflection. Despite his best efforts, Harry snorted a laugh again and elbowed him in the ribs.

"Like I don't know you hate the idea of me joining the force," Harry scoffed. It was true, Tom did, the idea of Harry running around and taunting criminals into throwing spells at him gave Tom hives. He'd already urged several of his minions into joining the Aurors just to make sure Harry had people Tom trusted to cover his back.

"I wouldn't have stopped you," Tom replied mildly. "And you would be great at the job. You're the best in our year at defense— and second-best at everything else," he finished smugly, ignoring the second jab Harry aimed at his ribs. After a moment's thought, he added reluctantly, "He wouldn't be able to deny your skill forever. He'd have to come around eventually." Or not, Tom thought privately. If Harry hadn't felt so strongly about solving his issues with his father himself, Tom would have already tried to sneak the man something cursed in the mail. Tom toyed with the idea wistfully for a moment, daydreaming about the possibilities, then shelved it for a later day. Harry wasn't ready to let go of his family yet and Tom could be patient.

"That's not—" Harry cut off, shoving his glasses up with one hand and rubbing at his eyes. "I don't want him to be forced to acknowledge me," he said at last. "That's not the point."

"Then what is?" Tom asked, genuinely curious.

Harry waved a hand wildly in the air as if trying to snatch the right words out of it the way he'd catch a snitch. Finally, he said, "I don't want to be a good Auror  _ despite _ being a Slytherin. It's the whole making the quidditch team thing all over again— as soon as I did he was excited to talk about it with me, but every time he came to watch me play I saw his face sour when he spotted the colors on my uniform. It was like he had this fantasy Gryffindor son and having to actually see me brought him crashing down to earth."

Harry wiggled over to stare up at Tom. His emerald eyes were bright with anger and Tom felt a part of himself relax at the sight. There was something deeply wrong about a still, quiet Harry; he was meant to be a creature of motion, all flailing hands and mercurial moods. Tom let his smile soften as he continued to card his fingers through his friend's wild hair, allowing the sympathy he felt to show unabashedly. Harry soaked it in like sunshine.

"When I succeed, it's not because of me, it's in spite of me." Harry continued, butting his head against Tom's caressing fingers like a contented cat. "And that's— fuck him. I don't want to give him the satisfaction. Slytherin is just a house, present company excluded of course," Harry amended saucily, making Tom laugh. "It's not some mystical driving force. I'm not any less brave because I'm clever, I'm not any less loyal because I'm smart. I don't want to have to show up and prove myself to him over and over because he's laboring under some stupid prejudices. I want him to like me, to be proud of me because he  _ is _ , not because I forced him to it."

"You want him to have faith in you," Tom said softly.

Harry sighed gustily. "I— yeah. I guess that's it. I don't need his support later, I'll be an adult then and I'll have already gone out and done... I don't know. Whatever it is I'll be doing. It's hardly faith if it's a fact, right?" Harry scrunched up his face, but his tone was wistful. "And I know it's dumb—" 

"It's not," Tom interjected swiftly.

"— but I thought we had turned a corner this summer. I thought he was beginning to see me again, the way he hasn't since..." Harry faltered, then shrugged.

"The way he hasn't since you sorted," Tom finished for him. His hand stilled as he watched Harry's mobile features shift minutely, running through a gamut of expressions before settling on frustration. For someone who could surprise Tom as often as he did, Harry was an open book.

"Yeah," Harry said softly, closing his eyes and rolling his head over to bury his face against Tom's stomach. The trusting gesture made Tom's heart race and the tips of his fingers tremble. Carefully, Tom began to run his hands through Harry's hair again as he settled back down. 

They sat in companionable silence for several long moments, letting the heat of the warming charms bake through them. At last, Tom mused, "If not an Auror, then what?"

Harry huffed a laugh, warm through the thin fabric of Tom's robes. "Dunno. Curse breaker?"

"Pass," Tom said immediately. "Too dangerous and it keeps you out of the country too much. I'd never see you."

"Mhmm," Harry agreed. "What about Warding?"

"You'd have to actually pay attention in Arithmancy for that one," Tom drawled. The usefulness of that class was a long-standing bone of contention between them.

"Oi," Harry said indignantly. "I have the grades, asshole. Fine then— hippogriff farmer."

"Gross," Tom laughed.

"Magical sock knitting?"

"Oh, now that one's a good fit," Tom exclaimed, grinning fondly down at his friend. "Just about your speed."

"Fuck off!"

Their shared laughter mingled with the cold breeze and drifted off across the lake.

**Author's Note:**

> The magical sock knitting was absolutely a reference to purplewitch156's 'Momento Mori,' because it made me laugh.
> 
> This is my first post, so thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


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